


New Directions

by Vamillepudding



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22101406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vamillepudding/pseuds/Vamillepudding
Summary: Kylo's doing pretty well. His books are selling, his editor has quit at last, and his family has finally given up on getting him to come home to Christmas.Then his new editor walks in and he doesn't have words for what he's feeling anymore.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 45
Kudos: 437





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to [Cynassa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynassa) , who probably developed a permanent eye twitch at how I portrayed the publishing business, as well as to [Captain_Maatkara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_maatkara) who swore she wouldn't help me with this story and then totally did.

When Rey’s phone rings for the tenth time during what would be her lunch hour, she’s seriously tempted to turn it off and / or drop it in the fish tank that for some reason her office insists on keeping around, even though nobody ever remembers to feed the fish and they have to replace them every few weeks. But even though giving her phone the sweet release of death that she herself often craves on the busiest days at work is tempting, common sense takes over. She answers it. 

This is her first mistake. 

She’s practically running to the elevator a minute later, trying to both keep up the phone conversation and eat a croissant. “Hm? Yes. No, I don’t understand, actually. _Why_ is this happening exactly?” 

“I just can’t take it anymore,” Finn says from the other end of the line. “I _told_ you how he is. He’s always been bad, just a complete nightmare, but recently it’s been worse than usual. I’m done. Someone else take him.” 

“What happened?” Rey asks. The doors of the elevator close behind her and a very slow journey downwards starts, because this building hasn’t been renovated since the 70s. Something new breaks every week; you can’t even _access_ the third floor anymore unless you take the staircase, since the button is broken. 

“He threw a plate at me,” says Finn, pauses, and adds, “he missed by miles, though. That’s not the point. He can be your problem now, if you want him so badly.” 

And – that is phrasing it simply, because of course Rey prefers her colleagues and clients to behave like decent or, if that’s not possible, at least normal human beings, but. 

Okay. 

Here are the facts: 

Kylo Ren has been with Rogue Publishing for six years, having signed the contract only a month or so before Rey started working there. Since then, he has published a book a year, and every single one has landed on top of all the bestseller lists and stayed there for months. His second book won him his first prize; by the time his fifth book came out last year, he’d won twelve. 

That’s the public side of it. On the business side of it all, Ren is not just “not a people’s person”, which would be fair enough. He’s also not merely eccentric, which might even help sales. No, the truth is that he’s, simply put, an asshole. 

Tales of badly-gone encounters with Ren are always the number one talk at the watercooler. Finn isn’t the first to throw in the sponge; in fact, Rey is mildly impressed he lasted as long as he did. It’s common knowledge that no editor has lasted longer than a year; Finn’s 10 months were practically the longest anyone has managed. 

But. 

In spite of all of that, in spite of literally all the bad qualities that make Kylo Ren so awful to work with, there’s also the fact that his books are just that good. Brilliant, really. Rey has wanted to be his editor ever since she read the first page of Ren’s very first novel, and his works have only gotten better over the years. Also, if she can do this right, if she can put Editor For Kylo Ren on her resume, then this will do wonders for her career – or for the career of whoever becomes his next editor. 

What Finn is doing here, basically, is offering her first dibs. 

And she’s going to take this opportunity and not screw it up if it kills her. Which it might. If Ren’s aim improves. 

This is her second mistake.

***

It’s tradition to arrange a first meeting between author and editor before anything gets finalised, sort of like an arranged marriage that gives you one last chance to back out. Rey isn’t worried about this. She _knows_ she’s good at her job. And even if this doesn’t work out, that’s not the end of the world; she has so many other clients that another one would be a burden, really. So no matter what happens here today, the outcome will be good, and she’s _not_ worried. 

She isn’t. 

She suggested meeting at a coffeeshop, mostly because Finn’s office is right next to hers and she would like to avoid any confrontation if possible. Ren had agreed easily, his email short and to the point. 

So now Rey is here, five minutes before the official meeting time, only to find Ren already there. She recognises him instantly; every novel of his has a photo of him in the back. It’s always the same one; a portrait of a young man looking straight into the camera, unsmiling. Now that she sees him in person, it’s clear that a few years have passed since the picture was first taken. He seems to have grown into his face, and he’s filled out more, too. 

He hasn’t spotted Rey yet, his attention taken by whatever is on the laptop screen in front of him. There’s a half-empty mug standing on the table; evidently he’s been here a while already.

Figuring that there is no time like the present, Rey foregoes her own drink in favour of taking a seat. Ren doesn’t look up. Rey clears her throat. Ren frowns and hits a single key on his computer. Rey says, “Mr Ren? I’m Rey, I emailed you yesterday.” 

Ren makes a noncommittal noise and hits another key. He can’t be typing, so it must be something else. _Is he playing a browser game_ , Rey wonders half-hysterically. 

She snaps her fingers, right in front of Ren’s face. “Hey!” she says. “I know you heard me.” 

Finally, his eyes meet hers. He stares at her blankly for a second before saying, “Yes.” 

“Yes what?” 

“I heard you.” 

Rey takes a deep breath while trying not to seem like she’s taking a deep breath. Finn managed this guy for 10 months; she can do better. She _will_ do better. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I want us to work together, not against each other. I’m told you had some differences of opinion with some of your last editors-“ _understatement_ , “but I’m sure it’s nothing we can’t work around. Now, Finn sent me the notes on what you’ve been working on since the release of Dark Path. He-“ 

“Who’s Finn?” Ren interrupts. 

Taken aback, Rey says, “Your editor? The one who just quit?” 

Ren’s face is blank. Maybe this is the secret to his genius. Maybe he suffers from amnesia. 

“You threw a plate at him,” Rey says flatly. This, at last, seems to spark some memory; the knit between his eyebrows lessens ever so slightly. 

“Right.” 

“Right,” Rey repeats after a small pause. “Like I said, he sent over the file. Obviously you haven’t even gotten a first draft yet, so this is really just-“ 

“Why are you doing this?” Ren says, cutting her off again. 

“What?” 

“This. Me.” 

“Why am I _doing you_?” Rey says, probably louder than necessary. A few of the other patrons look over briefly, then, in the universal instinct of anyone recognising trouble, all pretend not to have heard. 

Two spots of colour have appeared on Ren’s cheeks, his hands are clutching his mug. “Not – like _that_ ,” he hisses, like he’s perfectly happy assaulting people with crockery but the mere thought of doing – anything – with her is too much to bear. What a _dick_. “Why are you taking this job?” 

“Technically I’m not taking it until you approve of me,” Rey points out, then winces at her word choice. She should have gotten something to drink after all; it would give her something to focus on. “Not that I would advise you not to greenlight this, because while I don’t know who’s next in line, I can guarantee they aren’t as good as I am.” 

“You didn’t answer the question.” 

“Fine,” she says, suddenly fed up with this conversation. “I wanted this job because you’re the best author we got, and because if this goes successfully, this will be a stepping stone for me in the publishing world. I’ve been with Rogue Publishing for six years, I want something else. If you win another prize while on my client list, all doors will be open to me. I could practically apply to Red Five Books itself.” 

Something in Ren’s face has closed off at some point during her answer. She can’t put her finger on what changed, only that he now seems even more hostile than before. “We’re done here,” he says. “You can go.” 

“Go? What? You’re _dismissing_ me?” 

Ren, whose eyes had already travelled back to his screen, looks at her again, seemingly surprised that she’s still here. “Yes,” he says, like it’s obvious. “We’re done.” 

His blush has long since gone, but now it’s Rey’s own cheeks that are surely aflame with outrage as she stands up. “You,” she says, only just managing not to shout, “are the biggest prick I’ve ever met, and people were right about you.” He doesn’t reply – of course not, why would he? What was it he said? _We’re done_. They’re done. Rey’s big chance, gone up in thin air just like that. Shot to death by Kylo Ren, who doesn’t even have the good grace to be apologetic about it. 

Screw this. Screw him. _She’s_ done. 

She leaves without looking back.

***

Two weeks pass. One of her authors finishes the third draft, and she spends most of her time going over the final changes with him. Soon it’ll be ready for print, and that will be another weight off her back. Perhaps she’ll take a vacation. 

(She won’t, hasn’t taken one since she started working here. But it’s nice to daydream about it sometimes, nice to imagine that she’s a person who goes on vacations, who doesn’t practically live at work.) 

She meets Finn and Rose for drinks on the second weekend after the disastrous meeting with Ren. Both Finn and Rose express their sympathy by buying her drinks, which means she’s got the hangover from hell the next morning when she checks her emails and - finds an email labelled First Draft. 

It’s from Kylo Ren. 

Headache firmly in place, she clicks on it, sure that it’s a fluke, or perhaps addressed to the wrong person. There is only the file, no additional message. 

She should write back, inform Ren about his error, but – the file is right there, and he’s already sent it, and surely there’s no harm to take a quick look? No one has to know. 

Five hours later, her headache has intensified from looking at a screen so long, but she’s also got ten pages worth of notes and comments – and has this almost overwhelming urge to go find Kylo Ren and shake his hand or something, because notes aside, this was _amazing_. It’s not nearly as polished as any of the published novels – obviously, that’s what first drafts are for –, but all the right parts are there, and she feels like it won’t take much effort to push the raw text into something sharper, better. 

If only this was her actual job. 

Pushing aside her notebook with a sigh, she replies to the email, just a short explanation of how Ren has made a mistake and confused her address with his editor’s. Normally she’d have forwarded the email to the right person immediately, but she has been so busy these past couple of weeks that she doesn’t even know who got the job. Truthfully, she hasn’t asked, hasn’t wanted to know who beat her to the punch. 

A response comes within minutes. 

_You’re my editor_. 

Cassian picks up on the first ring, because he always does. “What’s up, Rey?” he asks. Rey supposes that in most companies, calling your colleagues by the first name would already be pretty weird, let alone the boss – but not Cassian. Cassian gives a big speech every quartal about how first names are the basis of trust, how trust is the foundation of the company, how the company is like a family – in which, conveniently, first names are common. Rey has heard this speech many times now. Sometimes she thinks it’s admirable. Sometimes she just wants someone to call her by her surname, just _once_. 

“It’s about Kylo Ren,” she says. “Just out of, you know, general curiosity, could you tell me who’s been picked as his new editor?” 

“I know,” Cassian says, sounding stricken, “I’ve been meaning to send you flowers or something as congratulations, but I just didn’t have time. Congratulations, though.” 

“Thanks,” Rey says automatically. Then, “What?” 

“You must have made quite the impression on him. He sent a message about how you’re the only editor he finds acceptable for his new project. That’s from a guy who once met ten different editors and still threatened to change the publishing house.” 

“I don’t understand,” Rey says, because she doesn’t. 

“Maybe he just likes you,” Cassian says, and even manages to sound like he means it. “I have to run, but keep me updated, alright? Don’t just send an email. You have to come by my office more often, I’ll make you tea.” 

“I don’t like tea.” 

“I’ll see you then,” Cassian says happily, and hangs up.

Rey stands motionless in her living room for a few seconds, phone in hand, before doing the only thing she can think of: She returns to her desk, and spends another few hours reading Monster Within once more. She may have no idea what has led to this, or what Ren’s secret agenda is here, but she can bloody well see to it that this will be the most well-edited book in the history of mankind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again - I know nothing about publishing and what little my beta reader pointed out, I chose to ignore, so any and all mistakes about this are my own. Enjoy !

The thing about being an editor is that it doesn’t actually require a lot of one-on-one time with the author; at least not personally. Most of it can be done via emails or, in some cases, phone calls. And while Rey actually prefers her conversations with authors to happen vis-à-vis, the truth is that the vast majority of her clients are crippling introverts who may fight to keep a certain scene or plot point, but generally take her (emailed) advice and don’t make trouble. 

Not Kylo Ren. 

It’s not like Rey didn’t know what she was getting into – after all, she’s spent years listening to horror tales about him – but, she really didn’t know what she was getting into. 

Ren’s response to her annotated document is to send annotations of his own, often twice as long, defending literally every single thing she’d highlighted. One comment is 200 words long and is about why a certain comma should stay where it is. It’s a very well-written note, impeccable grammar, excellent use of vocabulary, beautifully crafted sentences. It’s also deeply cutting and questions everything about Rey, from her work qualifications to her sanity. 

_All_ the comments are like that. All of them. 

She shows Finn excerpts of the document over lunch. “And this one here is just a question mark,” she says, her lasagne forgotten over the blind anger that still overcomes her every time she thinks about this. “What’s there to question me about? I told him exactly why the scene didn’t work. In a way this is actually more infuriating than all the defending, because it implies that _I’m_ the moron.” 

Finn simply laughs as he hands her back her phone, the careless sound of someone who has already crossed this bridge, fell down, and drowned. “You know, I think he’s actually trying. At least he replied to you at all. He ignored me so often that I started driving to his apartment, just to check that he wasn’t dead.” 

“Maybe he replied to me because seeing me in person would be so much worse,” Rey says glumly. On some level she recognises that this is paranoia, but then again, his hiring practice was to openly dismiss and then not talk to her for two weeks. “And I’m not going to start visiting him every time he’s ghosting me. That’s negative reinforcement. You can’t reward bad behaviour like that. Don’t ever get a dog, Finn.” 

“I think I’m more of a cat person anyway,” Finn says. “I’ve been dropping hints lately about how having a pet would be nice. So Poe looked up how to adopt a monkey.” 

“If you get a monkey,” Rey says, “I’m never coming over again. Do you want the rest of this?” She points at her lasagne, already halfway through shrugging on her coat. 

Finn raises his eyebrows, but already switches his empty plate with her half-full one. “Are you leaving?” 

“I have to reply to his comments, don’t I? That’s going to take the rest of the afternoon. Don’t get a monkey.”

***

They exchange more emails. They exchange so many emails that Rey’s eye starts twitching every time she sees Ren’s name in her inbox.

She doesn’t understand how Finn could have complaints about the infrequent messaging – Ren messages her literally _all the time_. And it’s always, always about how he disagrees with her, how the scene should stay, how the punctuation doesn’t need to be changed, how maybe she should go back to college if she can’t acknowledge his genius and worship at his feet. 

Alright, he didn’t say that last bit, but she’s sure that he’s _thought_ it. 

Of course, all authors are like this in a way – no one wants to let go of what they wrote. But never has there ever been anyone who takes so much offence at her corrections as Kylo Ren. 

And then, finally, they arrive at the second draft. Rey is almost scared to open the file, convinced that absolutely zero changes have been made, and that _Monster Within_ will be her actual death sentence. 

But. It’s actually…alright. It’s not great – there’s still that one stupid comma that he won’t let go of, and the confrontation between the two protagonists halfway through is still not fast-paced enough, and a ton of issues with the new scenes he’s added, but. All in all, it looks like all those weeks of emailing back and forth have actually paid off. 

Except that now there is the issue of the ending.

The very first draft had no ending. It’s not something most authors could get away with, but Ren has the advantage of not only having been with Rogue Publishing for half a decade, but also being, well, Kylo Ren, still on top of the list of Young American Writers. So she didn’t comment on it, and now here it is, in the second draft, the ending to the novel that will hopefully help put her name out there, finally. 

And it’s - 

Well. 

It’s not bad. It’s as well-written as the rest of the book. 

It’s only - 

“You called it _depressing_ ,” says Ren accusingly a day later from where he’s just entered her office, and Rey almost has a heart attack. 

“Jesus, how did you get in here?” 

“Obviously you didn’t understand it,” Ren says, blissfully oblivious that Rey’s heart is still beating fast after a gigantic figure suddenly loomed over her. He crosses his arms over his broad chest and scowls at her. “I’m not changing it.”

Her pulse finally back to normal, Rey says, “I called it depressing because it _is_. How can you not see that?” 

“Explain it to me,” Ren demands in a voice that implies he does not expect her to be able to. It’s exactly that tone that annoys Rey more than anything. 

“The monster commits suicide. That doesn’t sound depressing to you?” 

“It makes _sense_ ,” Ren snaps. “If you’d read the rest of the book, maybe you’d understood that.”

“Read the- I have done nothing _but_ this past month! Do you know how many other projects I have neglected just to exchange emails over pointless things with you? I have spent so much time with your bloody book that I’ve started _dreaming_ about it.” 

That makes him pause; he looks almost caught off-guard. His gaze darts to her and then to the floor as he says, “You’re dreaming about my book?” 

“I mean,” Rey says, flustered, “not really. I was joking. Obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Ren says, scowling again, unaware that she just lied to his face. She _has_ dreamed about the book a couple of times, mostly because she has just spent so much time on it that it’s only natural at this point. 

“I’m just saying that you know damn well that I’ve read your book. My point stands. The ending is too sad. Change it.” 

“No,” Ren says simply. Suddenly, him towering over her like this is too much. Rey stands up and takes a step towards him; almost instantly, Ren takes a step back. Fine. _Fine_. Whatever. 

“Change it,” she says, louder this time. This isn’t like her, this isn’t professional, but something about the whole thing makes her want to scream. 

“I’m not changing the ending,” Ren says, his own voice rising to match hers. “The whole story is about how the hero and the villain are the same person.” 

“Exactly! So why would you _kill_ him?” 

“ _Because he’s a monster_ ,” Ren shouts at her. “Everything about the narrative suggests his death is _the only answer_!” 

The door opens, and both their heads whip in the direction of the newcomer. 

It’s Finn. 

“Everything okay in here, guys?” he says, mostly to Rey. 

Rey can’t very well say, _He refuses to rewrite the ending of his book so I shouted at him_ , even though Finn of all people would probably understand. She’s in the office, and there is no excuse for losing control like this. None. 

To her surprise it’s Ren who answers. “Everything is fine. I was just leaving.” And leave he does, right past a bewildered-looking Finn. 

“What,” Rey asks, “was that?” 

“ _That_ was Kylo Ren, finally giving in to his true nature of being a dick. I bet he didn’t even recognise me.” 

“Oh _no_ ,” Rey says slowly, realisation dawning upon her. Oh no. She looks up at Finn only to find him already grinning at her. “So he’s always been difficult about scene changes, has he?” 

“Immensely difficult. Just the worst.” 

“And if you, in theory, had to convince him to change his _ending_ , how would you-“ The rest of her words gets drowned in laughter.

***

Rey expected this to be the start of the No Communication Thing that Ren had apparently going with Finn (and his six other editors. She’s asked around. One sent her condolences. One sent her vodka.), but it’s not. The emails continue. Neither of them mention the E word again because this is, after all, only the second draft, and there is plenty more left to fight over. Rey figures she can let this go for now, and just get him drunk or blackmail him or something in the future. 

And then she runs into him at the airport. 

Sometimes her job requires travelling. Today she’s supposed to meet a promising new author who also has a deep fear of flying, driving, or going at any faster pace than walking speed, so to cut this short, Cassian greenlit a two-day-trip for her. If she’s lucky, she’ll even get to look at some of the sights in Boston. Or she’ll just sleep. Sleep sounds good. 

She’s already past security and is currently in the airport book store when someone behind her says, “You can’t be thinking of reading that.” 

There’s only one person in the world that achieves the rare feat of sounding both mocking and bored by a conversation that _he_ initiated. 

She turns around only to find Kylo Ren taking the book from her hand and flipping through it dismissively. “This is trash,” he informs her. 

“It was nominated for the nobel prize last year.” 

Ren glares first at the cover and then at her. “Well, it’s still awful. Buy something else.” 

“I want this one,” Rey says and reaches to take the book back. Ren doesn’t budge. She decides, screw this, and tries to rip it out of his hands, which works better – if only because the second she touches his skin, he drops the book like he’s been burned. 

There is a brief silence, in which they both look at the book on the floor, now looking the worse for wear. 

The shopkeeper appears by their side by some ancient magic that lets all shopkeepers everywhere know immediately when a crime in their store has been committed. “And will you be paying by cash or by card?” he asks sweetly. More silence, until Rey says, “Well?” 

“Card,” Ren bites out and follows the shopkeeper to the register. Three minutes later, they are leaving the bookstore together, Leia Organa’s Midnight of the Soul clutched against Rey’s chest.

***

They are taking the same flight. They realise this once they’ve been walking in silence for a few minutes and Rey, recognising her gate, starts awkwardly saying, “Well, this is-“ until she sees Ren’s face. “Us,” she finishes weakly. 

They find two seats somewhere in between all the screaming toddlers and bored teenagers and exhausted parents. Deciding that any and all conversation will be more than she can handle today, Rey demonstratively opens the book, ignoring Ren’s pained face. 

On page 4 she lets out a small laugh. Immediately, Ren pushes his laptop aside and looks over her shoulder. “What’s so funny?” he demands. Wordlessly, Rey points at the sentence. Ren examines it critically and then says, “That’s not funny. That’s a cheap trick to get readers to laugh.” 

“ _That_ ,” Rey says, “is the definition of funny. What is your problem, anyway? Are you jealous? Do I need to give you a pep talk about how you’ll be just as successful as Leia Organa with time?” She frequently gives this speech to plenty of authors, and it’s only a lie about 75 per cent of the time. 

“I have no interest in being compared to Leia Organa in any way,” Ren says coldly. 

“Okay,” Rey says. “Well, good. Now will you let me read in peace?” 

Ten pages later, she laughs again. This time Ren doesn’t say anything. Instead he stands up and walks away. Rey stares after him, then figures that she’s not being paid to deal with him right now, and goes back to her book. 

Eventually it comes to her attention that someone has been holding what looks like a smoothie out to her for a while. She didn’t notice Ren returning to his seat, mostly because she didn’t expect him to. He did, though, and he came back with smoothies. The one he’s waving in her face is green. So is his own. 

“Blackberry-Kale,” he says before she can ask. “They’re good for you.” 

It’s as close to an apology has she will get, so Rey takes the smoothie and successfully pretends not to find it disgusting, though it takes a lot of willpower and a lot of inattention by Ren, who is now scribbling away in a notebook. By the time the boarding starts, she’s feeling more than a little nauseous, but at least they seem to be on speaking terms again. 

Fate can be cruel, but it’s not cruel enough to actually make her sit next to Ren on the plane for three hours, and they don’t see each other at landing, either, since Rey doesn’t have to wait for any luggage. 

Fate does, however, reserve the right to change its mind. So the next day, Rey arrives at the gate literally in the last minute, out of breath from running all the way from the tube, gets shown into the plane by an overworked flight attendant, and takes the seat right next to -   
Kylo Ren. 

Of course. 

“Short trip for you too, huh?” Rey says in a lame attempt at conversation. 

“Yes.” 

The plane starts rolling, then takes off, and they fall silent as they get pressed back into their seats. Rey takes out her laptop as soon as the seatbelt sign goes off. She didn’t get any work done yesterday, and Rose messaged her earlier this morning asking if she could just look over the final draft of something for her. Unlike Rose, Rey doesn’t usually work with children’s authors, but there isn’t really much that should need to be changed in the final draft, and besides, also unlike Rose, she doesn’t have the flu right now. 

_The Lightmouse_ is 86 pages long and complete with illustrations. Rey is halfway through the book before she realises that Ren is reading over her shoulder. 

She angles the screen away from him and says, “That’s confidential.” 

“I don’t like this,” he says as if she hadn’t spoken. 

Rey thinks, _Of course, you don’t like anything_. Out loud, she says, “You write adult fiction. This isn’t your genre, I understand that.” 

While she’s still mentally congratulating herself on the successful art of diplomacy, Ren says, “No. Adult fiction doesn’t have to be different from children’s books. Any children’s book should strive to be interesting for adults too. No adult fiction should be so dark and gritty that you wouldn’t also read it to a child.” 

“Uh.” Rey pauses and takes a moment to consider how best to phrase the fact that Kylo Ren just wrote a book so dark and gritty that she just knows it will spark a lot of cosplay at the next conventions. “I think some topics aren’t intended for children.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like, murder? Sex? Suicide?” He’s started to blush again, but at the last word, his face falls into its default expression of Scowling. 

“My books,” he says icily, “are perfectly acceptable for all age groups.” 

Rey laughs. She can’t help it. This is unbelievable. Who’d have thought Kylo Ren is completely and utterly delusional? 

“What are you doing? Stop that.” 

“Sorry,” she manages to get out in between fits of laughter, trying to get her breathing back under control, and then she takes a look at Ren’s face and starts laughing all over again. 

Ren makes a point of ignoring her for the rest of the flight.


	3. Chapter 3

Rey takes a sip of her tea (she really doesn’t like tea) to give herself some time before she answers. Cassian waits patiently, like he has all the time of the world and not like he’s missing an important phone call for every thirty additional seconds that she spends in his office. 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” she says when there is no way she can draw this out any longer. “And by that I mean, no way. Just no way.” 

“Talk to him,” Cassian says. “Tell him how important this is for his career. Tell him how important it is for us that he attends. Mention something about how we are all one big family.” 

“So basically, you want me to guilt-trip him?” 

“Yes,” Cassian says without missing a beat. “We need him there. He’s the most famous writer we got. Try everything. No boundaries. Offer him your firstborn if you have to.” 

Rey thinks about how Ren would probably read that firstborn his books as bedtime stories, and shudders. “I’ll try,” she says. “But I can’t promise anything.” 

“This is why you are my favourite,” Cassian says. 

Rey goes straight from Cassian’s office to Finn’s, only to find him sprawled out on the floor. She delivers a light kick to his side and he groans, not getting up. “I’m going to quit,” he says. “Look at all these manuscripts. Guess how many of them are terrible. I’ll give you a hint. It’s all of them.” 

“Get up,” Rey says, kicking him again. Finn doesn’t move, so Rey shrugs and joins him on the floor. “I need Ren’s address,” she says without preamble. 

“Why?” 

“To send an assassin,” Rey deadpans. From her current position she can spot a half-eaten sandwich on one of the paper stacks. It still looks mostly fine and she skipped lunch, so she takes an experimental bite. “I’m going to visit him.”

“Why?” Finn repeats. “Is he ghosting you? Didn’t you give me this big speech on responsible pet owners or something? Speaking of which. We got a cat. Turns out I’m allergic to fur. I think Poe seriously considered breaking up with me.” 

“Just take allergy pills,” Rey says absently, taking another bite. Finn watches her in open disgust. “I need his address so I can convince him to come to the New York Literature Festival next month. We’ll pay for his flight tickets, his hotel room, his food. He just has to show up, attend a couple of panels, and be done with it. We’ll pay him. It’s a great deal. Isn’t it? A really great deal.” Finn says nothing. Rey asks, “Do you think there’s any chance he’ll say yes?”

“No,” Finn says immediately. “No chance in hell. Absolutely not. But I’m going to give you his address anyway, just because I really want to hear how he reacts.”

***

Ren takes one look at her standing in front of his door and instantly shuts it. Off to a good start, Rey thinks, and starts hammering against his door. “Hey! Open up! I know you can hear me! If you don’t let me in, I swear to God I’ll pick the lock.” 

The door opens. Ren says, “You don’t know how to pick locks.” He sounds like he’s considering it. 

Rey waltzes past him inside the flat so to not give him a chance to change his mind. 

Part of her expected Ren to live in some dingy basement, possibly splattered with the blood of all of his critics and-slash-or past editors, but it turns out to just be a normal flat, small but clean, sparsely decorated but with a giant orange sofa in his living room that doesn’t fit the rest of the muted décor at all. It’s horrible. It’s also the only bit of this place that looks lived-in. 

Rey sits down before Ren can say anything, and decides to just get straight on with it. “There’s a literature festival in New York next mon-“ 

“No.” 

Well, at least that was quick. But she won’t give up this easily. “It’s only one weekend. We will pay for everything. You don’t even have to give a speech or anything. Just two panels. Or one. One panel is enough.” 

Ren is leaning against the wall, seemingly in thought. Eventually he says, “Who else will be there?” 

It is this exact moment that an uncomfortable realisation spreads through her. She knows this business, and she knows people. No one asks _Who else will be there_ without a reason. 

There is going to be drama. And she is going to fling herself right in the middle of it. 

“Alright,” she says, resigned to her fate. “Tell me. Who insulted you so badly that you can’t possibly be in their presence? If it’s someone low-profile, maybe we can see about uninviting them, and-“ 

“Leia Organa.” 

“What.” It’s not even a question, because Rey’s brain hasn’t caught up with her mouth enough yet to ask questions. It’s just a general, what. What the fuck. 

“If Leia Organa, Han Solo or Luke Skywalker are attending this event, I’m not going.” 

“What, _all_ of them?” Rey exclaims. “You realise that that’s two world-famous authors _and_ the head of Red Five Books? What – I mean, how do you even – _what_?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Ren says, crossing and uncrossing his arms like he can’t decide. “I just told you the facts.” 

He did. And it’s going to be impossible uninviting even one of them, let alone all three. He must know this as well as she does. And yet – she can’t just accept this. There must be another way. “What if,” she starts, making it up as she goes along, “what if we make sure you don’t have to interact with them? It’s a big festival. Lots of people will attend.” 

“If they see me, they will want to speak with me.” He says it like it’s a fact, and also like she couldn’t possibly understand the deeper meanings of whatever his weird history with random famous writers is. Maybe he punched them in the face. Maybe there’s a restraining order now. Whatever it is, Rey doesn’t find it in her to really care. She just wants to do her _fucking_ job, not have a discussion about every single thing. 

“Yeah? Right. So you’re scared.” 

“I’m not _scared_ ,” he snaps. 

Rey raises an eyebrow meaningfully. “It sure looks like you are. That’s okay. Everyone will be at this festival, it will be great publicity, an excellent career opportunity, but you won’t attend because you’re too scared of running into three people who probably couldn’t care less about you.” He flinches at that, but Rey is too angry to stop at this point. “People will wonder eventually why you never come to these things, you know. Word gets around. But of course you don’t care about what people think, so why would that matter? And why would it matter that we’re a really small publishing house and it’s hard enough as it is to stand our own, and your presence would really help us out? That doesn’t matter to you. You don’t care. And all because you’re scared.” 

“I’m _not_ -“ Ren starts, then stops and shakes his head. “Alright.” 

“Alright what?” 

“I’m going.”

“You are?” Rey says in surprise. 

“Yes. But,” he says, and dread sets in a second before he says, “I want you to come with me. You have to make sure there will be no interactions.” 

“I, alright, sure,” Rey says. It’s like she’s suddenly forgotten how to form sentences in the wake of this unexpected win. Cassian will be thrilled. Finn will never believe it. 

She’s so taken aback by this whole thing that it takes her a few seconds to realise that she’s still in Ren’s living room, with him hovering awkwardly a few metres away. Their eyes meet, Ren looks away, and it’s all so painfully awkward that Rey can’t stand it. 

“So I should-“ she starts, in the same moment that Ren says, 

“Would you like to-“ 

They both pause. Ren nods at her to go first. 

“I should probably go,” Rey says. 

“Oh,” Ren says, and falls silent. Rey waits a moment before getting up. 

“I’ll have your latest scenes over to you by tomorrow, alright? Have a good day, Mr Ren.” 

She’s almost out of the door when Ren speaks up again. “Kylo.” 

“What?” 

“You should call me Kylo.” He’s not looking at her as he says it, dark eyes fixed on somewhere to her left instead. This time it’s Rey who’s blushing. 

“Kylo,” she repeats, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Have a good day.” 

She goes.

***

They are up to the third draft by the time the literature festival rolls around. The publication date is getting closer, and they are nearly ready for the print version now. Perhaps this weekend will even inspire Kylo to finally change his ending. 

Or perhaps it will be a complete disaster. 

Rey attends literature festivals all the time, usually to represent her publishing house. So it’s not this part that worries her. It’s more that the organisers announced yesterday that Leia Organa is going to give a big opening speech and she has no idea how Kylo will react to this.

Technically, listening to a speech doesn’t qualify as interaction, but then again, at this point, who can tell? 

He’d been nervous on the flight here, his left leg bouncing up and down without pause, occasionally bumping into her own. Rey had wanted to tell him that it’s going to be okay, but everything she’d come up with would have sounded insincere. After all, she still doesn’t even kind of know what the problem is here. Part of her is still convinced that it’s just pettiness over being less successful – though then, how does Luke Skywalker fit into the mix?

Thinking about this anymore will give her a headache, so she announces an early night for both of them and hides in her room as soon as they arrive at the hotel. 

They meet in the lobby the next morning. Kylo is already there when she arrives. He looks like he’s being led to a firing squad, but there is no time to dwell on that now. It’s a short walk to the venue since the hotel was booked by the organisers specifically with the festival in mind, and they soon stand in front of the big double doors that will lead them inside once they’ve shown their tickets. 

Because she’s many things, but not cruel, Rey lightly touches Kylo’s wrist to get his attention. “Do you want to leave?”

“No.” 

“Okay.” They go inside, just as Leia Organa walks onto the platform that’s been set up for panels and, of course, her speech. Next to her, Kylo stops dead in his tracks. Rey gives him a questioning look and realises that all colour has gone from his face, just like that. 

People all around them start applauding. Kylo says, “I just have to-“ and walks off, the sea of people automatically making room for the angry tall man dressed in black. Rey is about to go after him, when someone else says, “I wouldn’t bother.” 

As someone who has worked in the publishing business for a number of years by now, Rey instantly recognises Luke Skywalker. He’s built up Red Five Books from scratch and now owns one of the most successful publishing houses. In their world, he’s a legend. _And hopefully your future boss_ , Rey thinks. 

Kylo has long since disappeared in the crowd, so it’s really just polite to stay and make a few connections. 

“Bother with what?” she asks quietly as Leia starts her speech by thanking the organisers, thanking her publishers, her husband, thank you all so much for being here and…

“There’s no talking to him when he’s like this.” 

“You know Kylo?” Rey asks, surprised, because while Kylo has also hinted this, she didn’t actually _believe_ him. Luke however just shrugs, his attention now on someone else in the crowd. 

“I have to go,” he says. For just one moment, he seems to remember her again, because his eyes focus on her and he says, “Listen, if you ever need a job, call me. Anyone who can handle Kylo Ren without setting themselves on fire is someone I want on my team. I’ll see you around.” 

“See you,” Rey says to the empty space from where Luke has already left. More applause; Rey dazedly joins in. Luke Skywalker just _offered her a job_. If nothing good comes off this whole weekend, at least she’ll have that.

***

She doesn’t see Kylo again until his panel starts. Rey feels a little bad about this; after all, she did promise to stay by his side. Then again, he was the one who ran off and disappeared for two hours, so he has no right to complain. 

There’s five authors on the Young Authors panel and Kylo is the last one to show. Rey waits for him just outside the room. Relief rushes through her when she sees him; until now, she half-suspected he’d gone back to the hotel. 

He is still paler than usual, but other than that, he seems alright. He nods at her as he walks past, and Rey takes a seat in the back of the room as the moderator announces starts. 

She has spent weeks worrying about how Kylo will do on this panel. It’s the only one they could convince him to attend, and that’s only because Rey showed up at his flat, gave him a list of panels and refused to leave until he’d picked one. 

People like eccentric authors, but there’s a difference between being eccentric and being an asshole, and if there ever was a line, then Kylo has overstepped it so far that he can’t even see it anymore. So, yeah. She was worried. But, to her great surprise, the panel actually goes well – that is, if you define well as No Shouting Matches and No Plates Get Thrown. The moderator attempts to initiate a conversation between the guests, which only ever works until someone tries to draw Kylo in. The worst thing about this is that Rey suspects he is actually _trying_ , and still he manages to offend one of the authors by comparing her book to actual garbage.

Every time his own work gets mentioned he starts doing this weird intense stare thing that makes the moderator smile nervously, but – and this is the surprising bit – the audience doesn’t seem to mind. The audience finds it _charming_. Rey checks the festival’s twitter feed a couple of times during the panel, and mostly people are tweeting about how funny Kylo Ren is (they are under the misconception that Kylo is joking) or, in a few tweets, how handsome. _11/10 that man is HOT_ one tweet reads, and _do you think he has abs??? i bet he has abs_ another _._ Rey scrolls some more before closing twitter, blood rushing to her cheeks as the tweets get more explicit. She zones back in just in time to hear the moderator announce a Q&A session for the last 15 minutes. 

This is another thing she was worried about – can Kylo be trusted to interact with unsuspecting civilians? Mostly though, people ask him questions about his ideas, or his characters, or his next book, and Kylo manages to respond more or less civil to all of them. 

Of course, just as Rey allows herself to be relieved over how well the whole thing has gone down, the moderator says, “Last question” and hands a woman in the crowd the microphone. Almost over, Rey thinks, and afterwards she can have a long bath and relax and-

“This question is for Kylo,” says the woman. “I was just wondering, did you have role models as an author? I mean people who inspired you, maybe made you want to become better.” 

Jaw tense, Kylo says, “No.” 

Technically this would be the end of the panel, but no one has taken the microphone away yet, so the woman continues, “It’s just, I’ve read your books so many times, and especially the first one seems to be influenced a lot by Leia Organa. Would you say that’s a coincidence?” 

Even from the back of the room Rey can see Kylo freeze. He’s scanning the crowd like he’s looking for help – like he’s looking for _her_ , she realises. She starts to rise, unsure of what she’s going to do, only sure that she needs to do something, but it’s too late. 

The moderator laughs and jovially takes back the microphone before saying, “Blood really is thicker than water, eh? Let’s give this lady a round of applause for successfully identifying one more power duo of family writers.” People clap dutifully, the words not yet fully sunk in, but then the applause gets stronger, more questions get shouted at the panel, and the moderator has to turn up the microphone’s volume to inform everyone, “And we’re done! Let’s thank our guests for a great panel, everyone!” 

And while everyone does just that, Rey can only watch as Kylo gets up and, for the second time that day, walks out.

***

Today, of all the days, is when Cassian doesn’t pick up. Rey waits a minute, waves at an author whom she used to manage before he switched publishers, and tries again. Three rings, four, five, and finally Cassian says, “Rey! What can I do for you?” 

He sounds distracted, but if it’s anything to do with him finally developing a life beyond work, then Rey wouldn’t want to embarrass him by asking about it. “Did you know that Kylo is Leia Organa’s son?” 

“What?!” Whispers on the other end of the line, a muffled shushing noise, then, “How do you know?” 

Rey tells him. 

“Christ,” Cassian says. “I suppose that explains why he’s stuck with Rogue Publishing all these years. We must’ve been the only ones who wouldn’t have realised that he’s writing under a pen name. I’m surprised he let us print his picture.” 

“Ben Solo,” says Rey, who has been googling the family from the second the panel ended. “Before you ask, yes, like Han Solo. That’s his dad.” 

“We’re lucky he takes more after his mum, then,” Cassian says. “Han Solo’s Elephant Coup may be everyone’s favourite children’s book since the 80s, but it’s the only one of his that’s ever been successful. Hey, that means he’s Luke Skywalker’s nephew, right? Literary dynasty indeed.” 

“I guess,” Rey says thoughtfully. She has no strong opinion about any of this except maybe surprise, but the more time passes after the panel, the more certain she becomes that Kylo must have a _lot_ of opinions on the matter. “Cassian, I’ve got to run.” 

“Call me later if you think we should put out a statement about this,” Cassian says and ends the call. With that out of the way, there’s really nothing left to do but to go find Kylo and do damage control – which, really, seems to be what most of her job entails these days anyway.

***

Kylo is standing in front of the hotel room window and doesn’t turn around when Rey comes in. “The door was locked.” 

“I told you I could pick locks, didn’t I?” 

No answer. 

Rey joins him by the window, looking out at the city down below where the sun is slowly setting. “So, we need to talk, obviously.” 

No answer. 

“I’m really sorry for what happened earlier. I already talked to the moderator, but I’m afraid there’s no way to stop the news from spreading. The secret is out.” 

No answer. 

“I think we should have you do an interview. Previewed questions only, no surprises. We need to gain control over the story.” 

No answer. He isn’t even looking at her, and that, more than anything, hurts. 

“Kylo-“ 

“Aren’t you going to call me Ben?” 

Rey frowns. “No. Not unless you want me to.” 

“I don’t,” he says quickly. “I really don’t.” 

“Then I won’t.” 

Finally, he turns to face her. His eyes are hooded, his expression completely, entirely blank. “I’m not giving an interview,” he says. 

“Alright, we can just put out a statement-“ 

“No.” 

“Kylo,” she says, exasperated, “we need to give people _something_. They’ll be wondering why you’re using a pen name, why you kept this a secret, if your – if Leia and Han knew about this, why _they_ kept this a secret, and so on. No one expects you to answer all of these questions, but you do have to answer some.” 

He still has that scary look on his face, devoid of any emotion, as he asks, “Where’d you grow up?” 

“Uh.” Wondering if this is a trick question, or the world’s worst change of subject, she slowly says, “England.” As if he couldn’t already tell. 

“And did you like your family? Got along well with them?” 

The question cuts deeper than he must have intended to. Rey thinks of foster homes, foster families, then foster homes again, nothing ever working out, never feeling like she belonged. Kylo doesn’t need to know about this – she doesn’t want him to know – but, he did ask.

“No,” she eventually says, this one simple word too inadequate to properly convey all of it. She feels shaky, like maybe her knees are about to give out, something that has _never_ happened before. 

Kylo nods. “So you understand,” he says. “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with strangers.” 

She _doesn’t_ understand. Not really. There is no understanding family dynamics when she never had any of her own to practice on. Rey remembers how she used to be fascinated by parent-child interactions in public, how this mother scolded her two daughters about not looking before crossing the street, how that father bought his toddler his first ice cream. A million interactions, and all of them would leave her wondering, is this what it would be like? 

So no, she doesn’t understand this apparent family fall-out. But she does understand being unable to talk about things. 

Following an instinct she doesn’t want to examine any further, she touches his wrist again, surprising them both. Kylo looks at where she’s touching him, then at her face, lips moving but no sound coming out. “Alright,” Rey says. “You don’t have to. We’ll figure something else out.” 

“Alright,” he says, too. It sounds a lot like _Thank You_. 

Kylo probably wants to be left alone, and Rey should go back to the festival. Except that she doesn’t want either of these things to happen.

This revelation startles her, and will need to be further investigated at a later date. But not now. Now, she says, “Want to go buy some disgusting smoothies? I’ll let you pick.” 

He doesn’t smile, but his lips twitch just a bit. Rey figures that’s good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost done ! The last chapter will be uploaded tomorrow, I'm very excited about this !


	4. Chapter 4

_Leia Organa (59) is one of the most influential authors of the century. Her books have been adored by fans and critics alike, and her latest novel, Midnight of the Soul, was famously nominated for the nobel prize this previous year. Less known, however, is the fact that not only is Organa wife of Han Solo, whose Elephant Coup remains one of the most critically acclaimed children’s novels to date, but also mother of Kylo Ren, otherwise known as Ben Solo. Ren has followed in his parents’ footsteps when it comes to rising to the bestseller lists, but his famous family connections have only recently been revealed. We interviewed Organa about her son’s success!_

_I: As you know, fans have recently caught onto the fact that Kylo Ren is your son. The video reveal has gone viral, and there has been much speculation since then. May I just ask – did you and your husband know?  
_

_LO: Of course we knew.  
_

_I: And have you read some of his books?  
_

_LO: I’ve read all of them.  
_

_I: And your husband?  
_

_LO: I know you know this, because he never manages to do an interview without mentioning it, but I’ll say it again: Han doesn’t enjoy reading. But he’s read some.  
_

_I: Which one was your favourite novel?  
_

_LO: I think Ben has improved with each book, so the obvious choice would be Dark Path, but I think there’s something special about The Natural State. I would say The Natural State. That’s my favourite.  
_

_I: Now, you named Ren’s first published novel, the one that has been compared to your own work the most. Is that the reason you like it, and would you agree with that assessment?  
_

_LO: I don’t agree with that at all, no. I think all authors influence each other all the time, but I doubt my works have had more influence on my son than, say, the works of Hemingway. Even if it had, that wouldn’t be why I like it, though. If that was the reason, I’d have to be very self-absorbed indeed. [laughs] I don’t know why I like it, to tell the truth. I just do.  
_

_I: Do you know the reason why your son has been publishing under a pen name?  
_

_LO: I’d have thought that was obvious. It can’t have been easy, growing up with famous parents, and Ben has always been – anyway, I assume he wanted to be known for himself, not for his surname.  
_

_I: We’re almost out of time, so I just have one more question for you. You have given writing workshops in the past, and you’ve reviewed books for the Times for almost a decade in the 90s. Is there writing advice you would have for Kylo Ren?  
_

_LO: No writing advice. Just that I think he hasn’t tapped his fullest potential yet – that’s not criticism, by the way. That’s a good thing. I hope I haven’t tapped_ my _fullest potential yet, either.  
_

_I: Thank you so much for this interview._

***

Rey is running to the elevator within thirty seconds of Finn forwarding her the article. This past week has been quiet – in the end, the amount of people who cared about authors is very slim, and the amount of people who cared about author family dram is slimmer still –, save four requests for an interview. Cassian declined them all on Kylo’s behalf, which Rey is thankful for, but she should have remembered that Kylo is not the only family member involved. If he was, there wouldn’t be any drama to speak of in the first place. 

The elevator moves so slowly that she might as well have taken the staircase, so she used the time to read the article again. She supposed it could have been worse. In a way, Leia was really nice. Maybe Kylo will see it that way. 

And maybe the sun will shine in hell. 

It’s not a long drive to Kylo’s flat. Chances are that he hasn’t even seen the article yet, Rey thinks hopefully, and stops at _Eager Vegan_ (Business Slogan: Just Beet It) first. She’s a little worried about how she will get through the front door with both hands full, but that situation is solved by Kylo leaving the apartment complex just as she pulls into the parking lot. 

Rey leaves the ice cream (low fat, low calories, flavour Broccoli. She’s seen the inside of Kylo’s fridge. It literally makes her want to cry.) on the passenger seat and jogs to catch up with Kylo. “Hey,” she says, trying to fall into step beside him but only somewhat succeeding, since he walks faster than other people run, and her legs aren’t that short but compared to his, they _are_. “Hey, hey. Slow down. This isn’t your typical Sunday marathon.” 

“I don’t run marathons every Sunday,” Kylo says, which presumably means that he still runs them frequently enough to be embarrassed about it. 

“Where are you going? Jesus, stop _running_.” 

Kylo stops running. A little. Mostly because she’s touched his arm to forcibly slow him down to human speed. 

“I’m going to the gym. Would you like to join?” 

“I don’t have any gym clothes with me.” 

Kylo looks her critically up and down and says, “Those aren’t gym clothes?” 

“That – no. What are you – I’m wearing _jeans_.” 

It’s only when his lips quirk up a bit that she realises he was joking. “You dick,” she says, and his smile grows a little wider. He’s in a good mood, Rey thinks. It would be nice, if not for the small fact that she’s about to ruin it. 

“I’m about to show you something, and you can’t shout at me, because I had nothing to do with it, okay?” 

“Okay,” Kylo says warily. Rey pulls out her phone, quickly finds the article among her hundreds of open tabs, and hands it over to Kylo. He barely glances at it before handing it back. 

“What, that’s _it_? Did you see what it was?” 

“I already read it this morning.” 

“And you’re…okay with that?” Rey asks hesitatingly. This seems a lot like a trap. At the very least, she expected some yelling. 

“Yes.” 

“Oh. Okay. Well, good. Great! So I guess the ice cream I bought to cheer you up is pretty useless now, right?” The whole thing still feels like a dream. Or a parallel universe. Or maybe Kylo hit his head or something. A concussion would be an excellent explanation. 

“You bought me ice-cream? Which flavour?”

“Broccoli, and the cashier just stared at me when I asked if they just had like, chocolate, so I got Asparagus for myself, and really you can just have both because I would rather die than-“ 

Kylo kisses her. 

Kylo _kisses_ her. 

Rey is abruptly glad she left the ice cream in the car, because this means her hands are free to cup Kylo’s face, and run through his hair, and- wait. 

“Wait,” she says against his lips. Kylo pulls back immediately, though he doesn’t look very happy about it. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “that was – inappropriate.” Normally Rey would marvel at the fact that he knows what sorry means, but not today.

Suddenly it seems important that she gets this right, because Kylo seems like he’s about to bolt. 

“Don’t be sorry, this was-“ _Great. Phenomenal_. “not inappropriate at all. But we’re in public.” And it’s the middle of the day, and there are people all around them, and already they are getting dirty looks from passerbys who have to walk around the unexpected obstacle that is two people making out on a busy street. “Also, I’m technically supposed to be at work, and you probably have this whole gym routine to prepare you for the next Ironman, or something.” 

Kylo doesn’t deny this. Kylo says, “Let’s meet tonight.” And then, ignoring her protests, he kisses her again. The ice cream is melted by the time she gets back to her car.

***

They meet that night, and the next, and the night after that both of them are busy but the fourth night they meet once more. Rey keeps thinking that this will be the last time, but it never is, and the truth is, she doesn’t want it to be. 

She’s been kind of viewing this as a really drawn-out one night stand, expecting either of them to at some point regain their sanity and remember all the ways this is a bad idea, until about a week after their first time together, she wakes up in Kylo’s bed to find him in the kitchen making her an omelette. 

Rey leans against the doorframe, her presence as of yet unnoticed, and just watches Kylo for a while. His back is to her, and he’s wearing pyjama bottoms and nothing else, and she’s close enough to count his moles, and he’s really not doing anything except operating a pan successfully, and yet she suddenly finds herself almost overwhelmed by the need to kiss him – and, this is the best part of it all, just as suddenly she remembers that she _can_. So she does. 

The omelette gets burned, but Kylo makes her another one. That’s probably the first clue that this isn’t a one-night stand. The second clue is that Kylo takes her out for dinner that night and asks, frankly, if they are dating. 

(They are.)

***

Months could have passed without either of them noticing, and perhaps they do, until the book release is only two weeks away and they haven’t gone to print yet. Everything is ready, the stupid comma is gone, all the scenes are neatly lined up, and really they could have printed a month ago, except - 

No. There is no except. The novel is finished, has been for weeks. It all fits, not a word out of place – if only there wasn’t still the issue of the ending. 

They have gone over it dozens of times by now. There have been tersely worded emails, downright rude emails, slammed doors, shouting matches, some begging and, recently, angry sex. Rey knows what Kylo will say – narrative, author’s integrity, did you really go to college or did you fake your degree – and she knows that Kylo knows what she will say – narrative, knowing your audience, have you ever had an actual interaction with a human being or was that not part of your programming –, so really, this whole argument is futile. But she can’t not try. 

It won’t ruin the book if Kylo doesn’t change it. It’s not _terrible_. 

It’s just, this is his sixth novel and his sixth time writing an ending that leaves you empty inside afterwards. So far it’s always fit the tone and this time it doesn’t _not_ fit the tone, but – No. She won’t waste any more time thinking about this. Both of them have already wasted too much time and energy in the whole matter. What’s done is done, and they are going to print tomorrow. 

Rey very carefully refrains from making any plans with Kylo tonight. She’s not sure what she would say, if the topic of his book comes up; not sure if she’ll voice her regrets. It’s better for both of them if she doesn’t. She’s his editor, but in the end, that’s all she is when it comes to this – his editor. 

She has just arrived home when two messages arrive in quick succession. 

Cassian. 

_i know how difficult it is to deal with Ren, let me know if you need a day off once he sends you the revisions_

What revisions, thinks Rey, her mind already going into overdrive at the literally hundreds of possibilities of what Kylo could have managed to screw up last-minute. Oh God. Stuff like this is why all his other editors quit. 

“What revisions?” Rey says the second Cassian picks up (fourth ring, seriously, what is _up_ with him recently). 

“The ending,” Cassian says after a small pause. “He called me this morning, told me that he was making some changes to the final draft. Said he’d be done by tonight, but that he doesn’t know how long it’ll take you to edit it. He said he’d cleared this with you. That it was your idea.”

“Okay,” Rey says slowly, and hangs up. 

She checks the second message she got earlier, the one that got ignored in favour of Cassian’s bombshell. 

It is, of course, from Kylo, asking her to come over. 

It feels a little like she’s walking through a particularly thick fog. Is this what burn-out feels like, she wonders before the thought disappears in the mist again. She drives.

***

Rey knocks, waits a few seconds, knocks again. Nothing comes. She checks her phone: One message from Poe, asking if maybe she’s willing to adopt a cat because Finn won’t stop sneezing. No more messages from Kylo. 

She’s not going to pick his lock again but, following her instincts, gives the doorknob an experimental shake anyway. It opens; Kylo must have left it unlocked. 

Tension inside her growing, she steps inside. Maybe he’s just taking a shower. Maybe he’s forgotten about their meeting and gone out, and forgot to lock the door. 

But the shower is out and Kylo _never_ forgets to lock the door. Rey calls his name once, twice, and isn’t surprised at receiving no answer.

Then her eyes fall on the sofa, that terrible orange monstrosity that is offending her sense of aesthetics in every way and that’s still the only real thing about this place, and notices the open laptop and the handwritten note. 

The note, scrawled on a yellow legal pad, simply reads, _Go to page 412_. The document is already opened on the laptop, not that there ever was any question on which document Kylo could mean. Rey scrolls down to the very bottom of it, and starts to read. 

She reads the scene, rereads it, and has to swallow against the way her throat suddenly closes up. 

_He changed it._

Rey emails the document to herself before Kylo can change his mind, then logs onto her own account and emails it to Cassian before she can change hers. There are no revisions necessary. Not this time. 

_He changed the ending._

That taken care of, she shuts the laptop and calls Kylo. 

Who doesn’t pick up. 

He doesn’t pick up the second time, or the third, and by the fourth time, a tight knot of nerves has settled in her stomach. She ignores it, and tries again. 

To no avail. 

Finally, worry gives way to anger. Rey stops calling. She turns off her phone for good measure and spends some time reflecting on the fact of what an enormous prick Kylo Ren is. She prepares a sandwich. She makes tea, just to have something to do. She starts reorganising his bookshelves, until she’s reached the letter C and it occurs to her that she should just go. If it were anyone else, she’d have been gone hours ago. 

But. He changed the ending. 

She’s just about to turn her phone back on when the door opens and Kylo walks in. Rey suddenly realises that while yes, she was clearly intended to see the document, presumably she wasn’t intended to stay for two hours. But the mist has finally lifted, and now she can think again, and she’s still more confused than ever. 

“What are you doing here?” says Kylo, who must be thinking the same thing. 

“Waiting for you.” It’s not strictly true, but then, it’s as good an answer as any. “I saw what you wrote. I sent it to Cassian as the final version, I hope that was okay.” 

“It’s fine,” Kylo says, pauses, and corrects, “It’s good. I wanted you to.” 

“Right.” 

“Right.” 

It hasn’t been this awkward between them in months, but it’s like Rey has suddenly forgotten how to have a conversation. Maybe this is how Kylo feels every day. “So-“ 

“You should talk to Luke,” he says in a rush. “Once the book is released. He’ll have to offer you a job. He can’t not.” 

“Talk to Luke?” Rey says, feeling like she’s lost track of what they were talking about, but pretty sure Kylo just randomly switched the subject. “Why would I do that?” 

“You should apply to as many jobs as you can, but I really think you should apply to Red Five Books.” 

“Apply to – are you _firing_ me?” 

“ _No_ ,” Kylo says. He sounds appalled by the very notion. “You’re quitting.” 

“What?” 

Kylo crosses his arms and presses his lips together for just a second. “You said. When we first met. You said you’d apply to a new job after my book got released. You said that this would be a career changer for you, if I won a prize for a book with your name attached to it. It will. So now you can quit.” 

Leaving aside the fact that Kylo seems so nonchalant about winning a prize for _Monster Within_ , so fucking confident, Rey still needs to take a moment to process all this. Because. What the fuck. 

“Am I that terrible at my job that you want to get rid of me this badly?” she demands. 

Kylo’s eyes widen a little. “Of course not,” he says. “You’re perfect.” He says it so simply, like it’s a fact, like it’s obvious. 

“Then _why_? Is this about us?” It is, if the way he flinches is any indication. “You can’t be serious. There are easier ways to break up with people, you know.” 

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he shouts, in much the same way that he yelled, _I’m not changing the ending_ all these months ago. “I just want what you want. And you want to go to Boston. Or somewhere else. You could go anywhere.”

“And you’d be fine with that, would you?” Rey says. “Red Five Books is in Boston. That’s three hours away.” 

“I know,” he says, and leaves it at that. 

“You-“ Later, she’s not sure what tipped her off. Perhaps it’s the way Kylo isn’t quite meeting her eyes, or the way he’s grinding his jaw like he always does when he’s uncomfortable. Either way, something clicks suddenly. “Kylo,” she says, coming a step closer and putting one hand to his cheek – not as a prelude for anything, just to remind him that she’s here. His own hand rises up automatically to touch hers. “I’m not breaking up with you either. Is that what you were worried about?” 

“I’m not worried,” he says in a tone that sounds like he very much is. 

“We’re not breaking up,” Rey says again, to remind them both of this fact. “And I’m staying your editor. I like this city, and I like my friends, and I might be about to get a cat, and I complain a lot but I like this job.” 

“And what about me?” Kylo asks. 

Rey smiles. “I like you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're done ! There'll be a short epilogue tomorrow for those who are curious about Kylo's next project, but the main story is finished.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's a short epilogue because I have no self control.

The book launch party is tomorrow and there are a million things left to do, but Rey insisted on doing this first. Kylo’s hand, twice her size, is gripping hers tightly. It’s the only sign that he’s not quite as comfortable with this as he appears. 

“We can still cancel,” she says, not because she think he will, but so that he is reminded of the option. 

“It’s fine,” he says, squeezing her hand tighter. 

They’re here. A year ago he might have asked her to come inside with him. Today, he kisses her cheek and says, “Don’t wait up. I’ll see you tonight.” 

Rey just sees a short glimpse of the journalist and Leia before the door closes behind Kylo. 

She lingers outside for just a moment. Muffled voices can be heard, too soft to make out words. No one is shouting, so that probably counts as a win already. 

Part of her wants to stay. A year ago, she might have. Today, she trusts him that he can handle it – or really, she just trusts him. 

She goes.

_***_

_I: Mr Ren, you have always been known for declining interviews. What changed?  
_

_KR: Nothing.  
_

_LO: I think what Ben probably means is that-  
_

_KR: I don’t like doing interviews because I don’t think they are necessary to understand my work. You don’t need to know who I am to read my books.  
_

_I: [laughs] You agreed to this one, though.  
_

_KR: It was…a favour.  
_

_I: To a special someone?  
_

_[silence]  
_

_I: Right. Ms Organa, Mr Ren, both of you are about to publish a new book. I have to ask – have you given each other a sneak peak yet?  
_

_LO: He’s read mine. I haven’t read his.  
_

_I: Because it was supposed to be a surprise?  
_

_[silence]  
_

_I: Mr Ren, tell us about How the Forest Dies. This is your first time writing a children’s book. Are you at all anxious about the reception of it?  
_

_KR: What do you mean?  
_

_I: You have mainly written Dark Realism so far. How the Forest Dies is meant for-  
_

_KR: All age groups. The target audience is children, but I wanted this to be something everyone can enjoy.  
_

_I: So this being the first novel that you are publishing under your real name has nothing to do with reputation?  
_

_KR: It’s never been about reputation. I don’t care what people think of me.  
_

_I: And the name?  
_

_KR: I suppose some might call it personal growth.  
_

_I: Only some? What do you call it?  
_

_KR: Giving in to what my editor tells me.  
_

_I: Ms Organa, you said once in an interview that you don’t think your son has reached his full potential yet. Are children’s books what you had in mind for him?  
_

_LO: I didn’t have anything in mind for him. He’s always made his own choices. But I will say that I am very much looking forward to reading it.  
_

_I: And what are your plans moving forward? Both of you? Is there any chance of a collaboration one day?  
_

_LO: Well, for now, my son will treat me to lunch. That’s enough collaboration for now. But who’s to say what the future will bring?_

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it now, this time for real. Thank you so much for all the lovely feedback I've gotten - someone pointed out that this is my first Reylo fic, which it IS, so I'm happy that my story has been received so well by everyone. Thanks for reading !


End file.
